


I'm So Lost Without You

by alanna_the_lionheart



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Anger, Angst, Central City, Coma, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hope, Hospitals, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Loss, Love, Near Death, Ra's al Ghul - Freeform, Romance, Temporary Character Death, The Flash - Freeform, Trauma, malcolm merlyn - Freeform, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-16 21:09:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3502847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alanna_the_lionheart/pseuds/alanna_the_lionheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray and Felicity visit Central City to get help with Ray's ATOM suit when an explosion occurs at S.T.A.R. Labs. Instead of running, Ray goes back for his suit's quantum processor, and when Felicity tries to save him she gets hurt in the blast. Oliver, Diggle, Roy, and Laurel rush off to Central City, where Felicity lies dying in the hospital. Faced with the prospect of losing the woman he loves, Oliver Queen is forced to reevaluate the decisions he has made, and make promises for a future he prays he can still have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Can't Be Too Late (To Say That I Was So Wrong)

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this almost a month ago, but I never posted it because I wasn’t sure it was very good. Then recently I came back to it, polished it up a bit, and now I feel better about it. I’m currently working on part two. This was based off of very loose spoilers we had at the time, and has no basis on any current spoilers or speculation.
> 
> For the purposes of this story, Oliver knows about Ray’s ATOM suit and Ray knows that Oliver is the Arrow. They found out about each other during Diggle and Lyla’s wedding.
> 
> Title is taken from the song “All Out of Love” by Air Supply. I’ve heard it many times before, but the first time I listened to it after the mid-season finale I cried thinking about Felicity missing Oliver, wishing desperately that she’d told him she loved him before it was too late. Listening to it while finishing up this story, I cried thinking about Oliver losing Felicity without really getting to be with her. This song is ridiculously perfect for them on multiple levels; I couldn’t help myself.
> 
> Enjoy!

**I’m So Lost Without You**

_I'm all out of love, I'm so lost without you,_  
I know you were right, believing for so long.  
I'm all out of love, what am I without you?  
I can't be too late to say that I was so wrong.

_"All Out of Love," by Air Supply_

* * *

**Part One: I Can’t Be Too Late (To Say That I Was So Wrong)**

 

Oliver sits in his seat, elbows on his knees, head between his hands. The steady hum of an engine thrums rhythmically around him, the gentle vibrations making his body shudder.

Then again, maybe the shaking in his body has nothing to do with the engine, and everything to do with-

_Felicity. If anything happens to her…_

Oliver sighs and buries his head deeper in his hands.

He’s only vaguely aware of the jet he’s flying in: a private plane, provided for him by Malcolm Merlyn, whom he'd practically begged for help. He’s vaguely aware of the others seated around him; vaguely aware of a soft hand on his back, rubbing in gentle circles, telling him that it’s going to be okay.

“She’s a fighter,” he hears Laurel say from her seat next to him. “She’ll pull through.”

Oliver spends the ninety minute flight to Central City replaying Barry’s phone call in his head. At the time, he'd only heard it in bits and pieces, and that’s how he hears it now.

_Accident at S.T.A.R. Labs...Felicity’s hurt…Ray Palmer…hospital…trying to stabilize her...her mother’s coming…It’s bad, Oliver…I don’t know if she…._

Oliver doesn’t remember saying anything in response. He _does_ remember Diggle taking the phone from his limp fingers, Roy looking at him with concern. Oliver can only imagine what his face must have looked like. Like his whole world had fallen apart, probably.

Because that’s what it felt like then; what it _still_ feels like, even now.

Oliver Queen has taken many long trips in his thirty years of life; more than he can count.

That ninety minute flight easily tops them all.

* * *

Oliver, Diggle, Roy, and Laurel finally reach St. Andrews Hospital around 9pm, at least four hours sooner than they would have had they taken the train.

Oliver hadn’t thought twice about asking Malcolm Merlyn for help. He’s been training with him for months, against the better wishes of most everyone on the team…and Felicity in particular. A small part of him loathed asking Malcolm Merlyn for anything; he’s been relying on the man more than he’s comfortable with recently. And yet he hadn’t thought twice.

He had to get to her as soon as possible.

Before it was too late.

They immediately head toward the ICU. They find Barry pacing the waiting room anxiously, and sitting in a stiff plastic chair near him Oliver spots-

“Ray Palmer.”

Oliver spits out the name, neither knowing nor caring about why he’s so angry to find him here, even though he knew he would.

“Oliver,” Ray returns, matching his tone as he stands.

“How is she?” Diggle asks Barry, stepping pointedly around Oliver, who continues to glare at Palmer from the middle of the doorway.

“She…it’s....”

Barry turns away from them, unable to finish, and Oliver feels his heart plummet into his stomach.

“She’s alive,” Ray finishes for him. “She’s in Intensive Care. They’re still trying to get her stabilized. She’s lost a lot of blood. The doctors don’t know if…” In the end, Ray can’t finish his statement, either, and he trails off the same as Barry.

Oliver’s own blood begins to run cold in his veins. Their unwillingness to say anything one way or the other puts Oliver on edge. His heart starts racing, his blood pumping faster. He knows he’s going to start panicking. He hasn’t had a panic attack in a long time, and he’s not going to have one now. He closes his eyes and breathes deep. _In…out. In…out. In…out._

When he opens his eyes again, his gaze lands on Palmer, and the rage he felt when he first walked into the waiting room starts boiling.

“What happened?” he asks, glaring at Palmer, not bothering to hide the accusation in his tone.

“There was an accident at S.T.A.R. Labs," Barry answers for him. “I wasn’t…I wasn’t there at the time. I was fighting a meta-human on the other side of the city. If I’d been there, maybe I could have….”

Barry trails off and looks at the floor, guilt written clear across his face.

“This isn’t your fault,” Oliver answers gently, glancing over at him. Barry looks at him in surprise, and Oliver notices how his shoulders relax, as though a bit of weight has been taken off of them. He nods just the slightest, and Oliver nods back.

Then he turns back to Palmer, and the warmth he showed to Barry is gone from his voice.

“What happened?” he asks again, taking a step closer to him.

Ray looks him square in the eyes and doesn’t back down, but his voice trembles just the slightest as he talks.

“Felicity and I were at the lab. There was…there was an explosion. Part of the building started to collapse. We ran, and I…I tripped. She came back for me, helped me up. She was one step behind me when….”

Ray pauses, wipes a hand across his face. Finally, he takes a deep breath and continues.

“The ceiling collapsed on top of her. I had...I had to dig her out. She was hurt badly. Unconscious. I was able to get her out before the whole place went down. Put her in the back of my car, drove to the nearest hospital. I called her mom, told her a private jet would meet her at the airport. She should be here in an hour. Barry met us here, and then he called you. We’ve been in the waiting room ever since.”

The six of them stand in silence, taking it all in. Oliver stares at the floor, unable to face anyone; unable to face any of it.

Oliver had known Felicity was coming to Central City, and that she was coming with Ray Palmer. She’d told him it was for work. The longer he stands there, the more Oliver thinks that he should have known better. He knew Palmer was working on that stupid ATOM suit. What if they went to S.T.A.R. labs to work on it, and something went wrong? What kind of “accident” could have happened?

Oliver turns his gaze back to Palmer and glares at him; when their eyes meet, Ray looks away.

 _He’s hiding something_ , Oliver thinks to himself. _There’s something he’s not telling us_.

Oliver opens his mouth to ask when Laurel speaks first.

“Can we see her?” she asks Barry.

Barry shakes his head. “Family only. I haven’t seen her at all.”

“I have,” Ray responds. “Only for a few minutes, but-”

“They let _you_ in?” Oliver asks bitterly, nearly choking on his own words.

“Well, sure. I _am_ the one who carried her in here, after all,” Ray answers defensively. “I needed to see how she was doing. After everything that’s happened-”

“You’re the reason she’s in here,” Oliver bites out, crossing his arms over his chest.

Ray snorts in indignation, then takes a step closer to him.

“ _Excuse me?”_

“You heard me,” Oliver growls. “You’re the one who brought her out here. You were supposed to protect her. You should have-”

“Enough!”

Oliver turns at the sound of Diggle’s voice. For a moment, he’d forgotten that anyone else was even here.

“This isn’t the place for this, and it sure as hell isn’t _the time_.”

Oliver wants to argue, but he knows that he can’t. His shoulders slump as his anger drains out of him, like air deflating from a balloon. Suddenly he finds that his knees won’t support him anymore. He moves to the nearest chair and collapses into it.

“I’m going to find a doctor,” Laurel says from somewhere next to him, and she leaves the room.

Roy sits in a chair across from Oliver. He takes a red arrowhead out of his pocket and rubs it between his fingers. It's a habit he picked up after Oliver "died": a nervous gesture he uses to calm himself. Ray sits back down in the seat he vacated earlier. Diggle grips Oliver’s shoulder tightly before taking a seat next to him. Barry goes back to pacing.

When Laurel returns a few minutes later, she shakes her head.

“There’s nothing new. They’re still…they’re trying to stabilize her. They won’t let anyone in.”

Laurel sits down on Oliver’s other side.

And they wait.

* * *

The waiting is torture. Oliver thought he knew torture during those five years away from home, but that was nothing, _nothing_ , compared to the torture of waiting for news on Felicity.

After an hour that feels more like a hundred, Oliver’s ready to force his way in to see her. He’s ready to don a hood and start threatening people, ready to start shooting arrows.

And then Felicity’s mother shows up.

“Mr. Palmer.”

She hurries into the room and throws her arms around Ray. Ray smiles sheepishly and gets to his feet, hugging her back.

“I need to go see her,” she says when she finally pulls away. “I just wanted to thank you for sending that plane for me. And for…well, for saving my daughter’s life.”

Ray smiles at her and grips her shoulders before letting go. “She saved mine first. It was the least I could do.”

Donna Smoak smiles at him, kisses him quickly on the cheek, and flies from the room, the clacking of her boots on the tile echoing in her wake.

Oliver glares at Palmer as he sits down once more, and he can’t help the emotions that war within him. Anger. Rage. Worry. Panic. And yes, even a hint of jealousy. Oliver wants nothing more than to punch Ray Palmer in his smug stupid face, but Diggle was right. This is neither the time nor the place.

So he slumps down further in his seat, drops his elbows to his knees, and buries his head in his hands once more.

Then he does something he hasn’t done in a long, long time – since long before Lian Yu.

He prays.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, the sound of running feet, raised voices, and the distant noise of machines going haywire floods Oliver’s brain, and without even thinking, he gets to his feet and runs.

He follows the noise down the hall, to the ICU…to her. He vaguely notices that at least one person is following him, but he suddenly has tunnel vision. All that matters is what’s at the end of the hall.

All that matters is _her_.

He hears it before he sees it: harsh, mechanical beeping. He already knows what it means, and he tries to steel himself as he turns the corner and looks into her room. He catches a brief glimpse of the monitor first: jumping green lines.

Then his eyes land on her.

She’s surrounded by doctors on all sides, but he can just make out her face through the sea of arms and hospital green scrubs.

“She’s crashing,” one of the doctors announces.

Oliver feels like he’s crashing with her.

“We’re losing her!” another one shouts.

“No,” Oliver hears himself whisper, the words leaving his mouth automatically.

A louder, sharper “NO!” echoes back at him, and he spots Donna Smoak standing off to one side, staring at Felicity with her hands over her mouth, tears streaming down her face.

Oliver wants to go to her, wants to do _something_ , but he can’t make his feet move. If he takes even one step, he knows he’ll fall…and he might never get back up.

That’s when Ray Palmer flies past him, entering the room and heading for Donna’s side. He stands behind her, grips her shoulders tightly in his hands.

They stand. And they wait. And they watch.

One doctor pulls over a crash cart, another preps the paddles.

Oliver’s heart pounds in his chest.

The doctors are prepared for the worst.

Oliver is not.

And then it happens.

The line goes flat.

Felicity’s heart stops beating, and Oliver would swear that his does, too.

* * *

Five seconds.

That’s how long Felicity lies dead on that operating table.

Five seconds.

Oliver knows because he counts them.

Every. Single. One.

Every lost breath.

Every missed beat of his own heart.

**One.**

The doctor applies the paddles and shouts "Clear!"

Oliver moans in pain.

**Two.**

Her body jerks up on the table, the charge going through her.

Oliver grips the doorway next to him and holds on.

**Three.**

She crashes back down.

 _Oh, god, please. Please, please, please._ Oliver whispers it over and over in his head: his prayer, his mantra, his plea.

**Four.**

The doctor pulls the paddles away and waits.

“Please," Oliver begs.

**…Five.**

"My baby," Donna Smoak whimpers.

"Felicity," Oliver whispers.

* * *

He doesn’t make it to six.

…

_Beep._

The first beep is music to his ears. It gives him strength and life.

_…_

_Beep._

The second brings feeling back into his legs. He waits quietly for more.

_…_

_Beep…beep…beep._

Oliver’s heart starts beating again.

…

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

And so does hers.

* * *

Five seconds.

That’s how long she stays dead. That’s how long it takes Oliver Queen to contemplate living without Felicity Smoak.

Five seconds.

That’s how long it takes to change Oliver’s life.

Five seconds.

It should seem like nothing, but to him it’s everything.

* * *

Oliver doesn’t remember much that happens right after Felicity flatlines on the table.

At some point they stabilize her.

At some point the jagged green line on the monitor calms into a steady blip.

At some point a nurse tells him to go back to the waiting room; that the worst is over.

He must do as she says, because he finds himself back with the others.

He must tell them what happened, because Roy collapses into a chair and puts his head in his hands, Laurel wraps her arms around herself tightly, and Barry runs from the room in a blur.

He must tell the others what happened…because Diggle punches his fist straight into the waiting room wall.

Oliver helps him gently pull his hand free from the plaster.

John looks down at his knuckles covered in blood…and then he does the strangest thing.

He smiles.

“Lucky for me, we’re in a hospital.”

Oliver can’t help it. He laughs. Honest-to-god _laughs_. He must be losing his mind, because what sane person would find this funny?

But then Diggle laughs, Roy looks up and smiles, and Laurel shakes her head at them, but she’s smiling, too.

Maybe none of them are sane. Maybe they need a good laugh to keep from falling apart.

Whatever it is, they embrace it.

Diggle's on his way out of the room when he suddenly stops.

Ray Palmer stands in the doorway, looking at them in confusion.

"What’s so funny?” he asks.

And just like that, Oliver feels all the smiles and laughter and relief get sucked right out of him.

He doesn’t want him here. Ray Palmer is the _last_ person he wants to see right now. When he looks at Palmer, all he sees is Felicity lying dead on that table. It all comes rushing back to him in a wave of fear and despair….

And rage.

Red. Hot. Rage.

Oliver’s not even aware of doing it. One minute he’s standing there, glaring at Ray Palmer, and the next his fist is connecting with the man’s face, much the same as Diggle’s connected with the wall only minutes before.

“Oliver!” Laurel shouts in shock.

Ray stumbles sideways into a chair. He reaches a hand up to his face, wipes it across his lips, and finds blood. He shakes his head and stands, taking a step toward Oliver.

“You know, I'd heard you have an angry streak, but I never thought you’d stoop to punching people in _hospitals_.”

“This is all your fault,” Oliver growls, ignoring him.

“Really?” Ray bites out. “And why is that exactly?”

“You’re the one who brought her here. You’re the one who convinced her to help you with this ATOM business. You’re the one who dragged her into this vendetta of yours.”

“Yeah, because _you’re_ one to talk,” Ray responds with a laugh. “You dragged her into your business with the Arrow. You put her life in danger _every day_. How is that any different?”

Oliver hears what Ray is saying, and while a tiny part of him can acknowledge the truth in his words, the majority of him is pissed, and he doesn’t care who knows it.

“The difference is she got hurt on _your_ watch! You were supposed to protect her. She almost DIED!”

“ _Oliver_ ,” Diggle warns him, but Oliver doesn’t care. He’s shouting now, and he knows the rest of the hospital can hear him, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care if he’s yelling, or if he sounds callous or mean, or if he’s being an ass. This is all Ray Palmer’s fault.

“If she hadn’t come here with you none of this would have happened! She’d be safe at home in Starling City where she belongs.”

“You mean safe with _you?!_ ” Ray spits out, matching his voice now in both volume and tone.

The words feel like a knife in Oliver’s gut; a sensation he’s become all too familiar with as of late.

“Don’t try and put this on me, Oliver Queen,” Ray continues, taking a step closer to him. “Just because she’s moved on doesn’t give you the right to blame me. Just because you’re jealous-”

Oliver lunges. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches Diggle and Roy both moving to intervene, but he shoves his way past them, ready to hit Palmer again.

And then, out of nowhere, he hears a voice that brings him screeching to a halt.

“You should be ashamed of yourselves.”

He turns to find Donna Smoak standing in the doorway. Her makeup is running, tears drying on her face, but in that moment Oliver swears she could take down both of them without breaking a sweat.

“I heard you from down the hallway,” she accuses. “Do you really think she would want any of this? Do you _really_ think she’d want to hear you arguing over who’s to blame?”

Oliver’s anger deflates once more, only to be replaced by shame. He finds that he can’t look at her anymore, so he gazes down at the floor instead.

He listens quietly as Donna Smoak fills them in on Felicity’s condition. How she has second degree burns on parts of her body; burns they may be able to graft if she recovers. How a piece of steel embedded itself in her stomach, causing severe blood loss and leaving a scar that will never heal. But the biggest problem is the damage caused by the weight of the ceiling collapsing on top of her. Internal bleeding, crushed organs.

The doctors were able to bring her back from the edge, and they finally have her stabilized. But she’s hurt badly, and she’s fallen into a coma.

“They’re doing everything they can for her, but…they don’t know if she’s going to make it,” Donna finishes.

Oliver finally looks back up at her. When their eyes meet he feels shame washing through him once more, but he doesn’t look away this time.

“My daughter is _dying_ , and all you two can do is bicker and fight like a bunch of children.”

Silence fills the room, dark and heavy. No one knows what to say. Oliver wants to apologize, but he feels like the words will sound hollow and useless.

Finally, Donna speaks again.

“I’m going to be with my daughter. You’re all welcome to stay in the waiting room if you can do it quietly.”

And without another word, she turns and walks away.

Silence fills the room once more. Laurel and Roy wander over to a pair of chairs and sit down quietly. Diggle looks between Oliver and Ray, as if he’s waiting for them to go at it again, but when his eyes meet Oliver’s they come to a silent understanding. Diggle nods and heads out of the room, cradling his right hand in his left. Finally, Oliver meets Ray’s gaze. The two men stare at each other, and they come to their own understanding. When Oliver nods, Ray nods back. Oliver sits in the nearest chair, and Ray sits in the farthest corner by himself.

They may not like each other, but they’re not going to fight anymore.

Not now.

* * *

They sit in silence for hours. No one says anything.

There’s nothing _to_ say.

Barry comes back half an hour later. Ray fills him in on what Donna told them, and when he’s done Barry goes back to pacing the room, nervous energy keeping him from sitting still.

Diggle returns not long after, his hand wrapped in clean white bandages. He sits down quietly next to Oliver and stares blankly into space.

Around midnight, Laurel and Roy fall asleep in their chairs.

At 1am, Barry finally stops pacing.

“I can’t stay here anymore. I need some air.”

Oliver nods in understanding.

“Do you have anywhere for them to stay?” he asks, glancing in Laurel and Roy’s direction.

Barry nods.

“I can put them up in my place. I won’t be staying there tonight.”

Oliver doesn’t ask where he’ll be, because he already knows.

Barry will be running.

“I’ll go with them,” Diggle announces. He gets to his feet and moves to wake up Roy and Laurel.

“What about you two?” Barry asks.

“I’m staying here,” Oliver answers, and when he looks at Ray, he already knows how the other man will answer.

“So am I.”

“All right, then. I’ll meet you guys outside.”

Barry checks the hallway to make sure no ones around, then he’s gone in a flash.

Laurel hugs Oliver on her way out, and Roy surprises Oliver by doing the same.

“Call us as soon as you know anything?” he asks.

“Of course,” Oliver responds.

Roy follows Laurel out the door.

Finally, Oliver turns to face Diggle. Suddenly, he finds himself filled with the overwhelming desire for reassurance, and he opens his mouth to ask for it.

When the words finally leave his mouth, his voice is shaking.

“Tell me she’s going to be okay, John.”

And then, John Diggle does the last thing Oliver thought he would do.

He smiles.

“Oliver…when you were gone, when we all thought you were dead…Felicity held us together. She kept us going when we weren’t sure that we could. She’s _strong_ , Oliver. She found a way to pull through then…and she’ll do it again.”

Diggle hugs him tightly. Oliver hugs him back, and he takes strength from his words.

* * *

Oliver and Ray sit in the waiting room…and they wait.

Neither of them has anything to say to the other; all they can think about is Felicity.

Around four in the morning, Ray falls asleep in his chair.

Oliver can’t sleep.

He stares at the floor, the unread magazines on the table, the television that they put on silent hours before.

His gaze finally lands on the wall across from him, and the hole left by Diggle’s fist. Oliver stands, stretching his sore muscles, and he walks over to it.

He runs his hands along the edges, wondering at the strength it must have taken to punch a hole clean through the waiting room wall.

It reminds him of his own punch, and he looks over at Ray, snoring in his chair.

It was so easy to punch him; Oliver never thought twice about it. And maybe….

_Maybe that’s the problem._

Oliver turns back to the hole as his mind starts racing.

Ever since he came back from those five years in Hell – ever since he put on that hood – _this_ is what he’s been best at. Anger, rage, vengeance; those have been easy to cope with. All he has to do is put on his hood, pick up his bow, and wander out into the night. It’s easy for him to take everything out on the bad guys; to let his anger and jealousy out on men like Palmer.

But the _pain?_ The hurt, and the loss, and the suffering? _Those_ have always been harder for him to deal with.

Oliver turns to stare at the blood drying on Ray Palmer’s lip, and suddenly he finds himself wondering:

What would Felicity think?

Oliver starts pacing the room.

He has a lot of thinking to do.

* * *

At five in the morning, he can’t take it anymore.

He has to see her.

Oliver sneaks down the hallway and into the ICU. He finds Felicity’s mother asleep at her side, but she wakes up when Oliver knocks gently on the door.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I’ll leave if you want me to. I just…I needed to see her.”

Donna stares at him, then looks back to her daughter. A warm smile lights her face, and Oliver wonders what she’s thinking.

Whatever it is, she doesn’t share.

At least, not right away.

She gets to her feet first and stretches. She turns from the bed, walks toward him, and rests a hand gently on his shoulder. She has to reach up a bit to do it; without heels, she’s slightly shorter than her daughter.

“I don’t really understand what’s going on between you two, but whatever it is…I hope you can work it out. She cares about you, Oliver…and I can tell you feel the same.”

Oliver has no idea how much she knows, how much Felicity has told her about them, but it doesn’t really matter…because she’s right.

In the end, all he can do is nod, and she smiles warmly at him.

“I’ll go freshen up a bit, maybe get some food. I might be gone for awhile.”

Oliver knows well enough to read between the lines. She’s willing to give him the time that he needs, and his heart swells with love for Donna Smoak, because she’s clearly where Felicity gets her own strength.

As she leaves, Oliver approaches Felicity. He focuses on the hypnotic blipping of the heart monitor. Her heart is running slow, but it’s running, and the steady _beep, beep, beep_ calms him.

When he reaches the bed, he lets himself take in the sight of her. She’s wrapped tightly in blankets, her arms laid gently at her sides. Her right palm is turned up, as though her hand has been recently held. Bandages cover a portion of her left shoulder, disappearing under her hospital gown. Her face is pale, her glasses are off, and her hair is out of its ponytail, fanned out gently around her face. Oliver twists his head, and when the light shed from the computer monitors hits her hair just right it shimmers, like she has a halo.

His angel. His light.

Except…it’s all dimmed now, all dark.

As he stares at her, lying still and quiet in the bed, he remembers those five seconds. How she almost died. How he felt like was dying with her.

As he stares at her, so close to death, he suddenly finds himself faced with the idea that she might never wake up. That she could die right here, right in this hospital bed. It might be tomorrow, or in a few days, or in a week.

She could die, here and now…and he could lose her forever.

And Oliver knows without a doubt that he would die with her. Maybe not physically…but spiritually, and emotionally, and in every way that really matters.

A sob escapes his throat against his will, and he leans down and kisses her forehead. Firm, yet gentle; like he did that night in the Foundry when he left to face Ra’s Al Ghul. The night his life went to hell.

Oliver Queen thought he’d known Hell those five years he spent away from home…but he was wrong.

It’s _nothing_ compared to the Hell he faces now.

He pulls away, and tears rise in his eyes, but they're not important. All he can see is the woman he loves lying cold and still.

He’d do anything to save her. Give up anything. Sacrifice anything.

He can’t lose her.

Oliver takes a deep breath, willing his tears away, forcing himself to be strong. He sits down in the chair next to the bed and pulls it as close as he can. He reaches out and grabs her right hand, holding it firmly between both of his own. Her hand looks so small in his, but he can’t help thinking how right it feels.

Her hands belong in his. They fit.

He can’t lose her. He needs her too much. Loves her too much. More than he’s ever loved anyone. He’s told her before, but maybe words aren’t enough. Maybe what Oliver needs to do is _show her_.

He pulls her hand to his mouth and kisses it softly.

“Felicity...I don’t know if you can hear me, but…I want you to know I’m sorry.”

He pauses, wondering briefly if it matters. If she can’t hear him, what’s the point?

But the more he thinks about it the more he realizes that he doesn’t care. The words he has are words he needs to say; words he should have said before. He’ll say them to her, and to himself; he’ll say them to God, to the universe, to whoever’s out there who will listen to him because Felicity _can’t_ die. Not now. Not like this.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeats. “I screwed everything up, didn’t I?” He smiles wryly. “Just like I always do. I thought that working with Merlyn was the only way I could stop Ra’s Al Ghul. I didn’t…I just couldn’t see any other way. I….”

And suddenly, a conversation comes back to him; one he had with Felicity nearly a year ago in the clock tower.

 _You are **not done**_ _fighting. Malcolm Merlyn…the Count…the Clock King, the Triad. Everyone who has tried to hurt this city, you stopped them. And you will stop Slade._

_I don’t know how._

_Neither do I. But I do know two things. You are not alone…. And I believe in you._

And finally, the pieces start to come together.

He _did_ find a way to stop Slade.

 _They_ found a way to stop Slade.

And they did it without compromising Oliver’s soul. They found a way to stop Slade without killing him. Together they came up with a solution.

 _This_ is why Felicity has been so upset with him. He’d thought Malcolm Merlyn was his only answer. He’d never even considered that there might be another way. And he’d never asked anyone else for help. He’d never asked Felicity to help him find another way.

They’d found a way to stop Slade that hadn’t ended with Oliver losing a part of himself.

He doesn’t know if he can do that again; doesn’t know if he can stop Ra’s Al Ghul without sacrificing a piece of Oliver Queen.

But Felicity was right. He’s _not_ alone. He’s got Diggle, and Roy, and Laurel.

He has Felicity.

Or at least…he _had_ Felicity.

Maybe he doesn’t have to face Ra’s by himself. Maybe he can find another way.

He _has to_.

For _her_.

“I don’t know how to stop him,” Oliver whispers, gripping her hand tighter. “I don’t know if I _can_. But I’m done with Merlyn. I’ll find another way. Whatever it takes, I’ll find another way. _I swear I will._ ” He leans in closer, uses one hand to brush a strand of hair away from her face.

“But I can’t do it without you. I need you, Felicity. You have to be okay. You have to….”

Oliver chokes back a sob, tears finally falling, and he shakes his head, wills himself to go on.

“I’ll do whatever it takes. _Whatever it takes_. Because I can’t lose you.”

He caresses her cheek gently with his hand, strokes it softly, loses himself in the sweet rhythm. She’s not cold like he thought she’d be. She’s still warm, still alive, blood pumping beneath her skin.

_Beep…beep…beep._

The rhythm on the heart monitor slows for a few beats.

“Oh, god,” Oliver moans, and he’s going to lose it. Any second now he’s going to lose the fragile grip he has on himself, because he can’t lose her.

Her heart picks up once more, and Oliver sighs in relief as the beeping settles into its familiar rhythm.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

He stands and shoves his palms against his eyes, takes a few deep, calming breaths, wills himself to keep it together. He wipes the tears from his face with both of his hands and looks down at her. His eyes watch the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathes.

_In, out. In, out._

He reaches out a hand. And then, as gently as he can, he rests it on her chest.

_In, out. In, out._

He matches his breathing to hers.

_In, out. In, out._

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

“Felicity…I’m done making deals with people like Malcolm Merlyn. But I _will_ make one with you.”

He stares at her face, wishing desperately that she would open her eyes, that she can hear him. He doesn’t know if she can, but it doesn’t matter. He’ll make this deal with only himself if he has to.

“I’ll do whatever you want, Felicity. Anything. I’ll give it up. All of it. I’ll stop fighting; I’ll stop being the Arrow. I’ll hang up the hood forever. If that’s what it takes, I’ll do it. Whatever you want. I just need you to wake up. I need you to come back to me.”

He takes his hand off her chest and cradles her face gently between his palms, marveling once more at how small she is. How right this feels. How her face fits perfectly between his hands, like it was meant to be. Like _they_ were meant to be.

“You can’t leave me. I need you, Felicity. Please.”

His voice cracks on the last word as he chokes back a sob, bending down slowly. He kisses her softly. When he finally pulls back, he carefully wipes away the tears that have landed on her cheeks.

“I love you,” he whispers into the darkness. “I know you’ve heard me say it, but I want a chance to prove it. You just have to hold on. You have to _fight_. I know you can do it. You’re stronger than you realize. You always have been.”

“Mister Queen?”

He turns and finds a nurse standing in the hallway.

“You know you aren’t supposed to be in here. Family members only.”

He can tell from her tone that she doesn’t want to kick him out. She’s only doing her job.

He opens his mouth to respond, more than willing to beg, when someone else speaks for him.

“Let him stay.”

It’s Felicity’s mother. Her eyes are shining with tears, and he can’t help but wonder how much she heard.

“Ms Smoak-”

“Please. He should be here. I think…I think it will help her.”

The nurse looks between them helplessly. And then, finally, she smiles.

“If anyone asks, I never saw you.”

The nurse leaves, and Oliver stands there in the dark, staring at Donna Smoak. He wants to thank her, except he’s not sure his voice will work right now.

But then she crosses the room and pulls him into a hug, and suddenly words don’t seem to matter so much anymore. He wraps his arms around her and hugs her back. She’s small, just like her daughter, but there’s a strength in her that he didn’t think he’d find.

“She’s going to be okay,” Donna whispers against his shoulder. “My daughter is a fighter. She’s going to come back to us.”

And against all hope, Oliver finds himself smiling.

“She will,” he agrees quietly.

_And when she does, I’ll be ready for her._

**_...to be concluded..._ **


	2. What Am I Without You?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for the kudos and for all the beautiful comments. :) It means a lot to me that this story is genuinely moving people. Hopefully you'll enjoy the ending!

**I’m So Lost Without You**

**Part Two: What Am I Without You?**

 

Over the next four days, Oliver and Ray stay in the hospital. They eat in the cafeteria and sleep in the hard waiting room chairs. The hospital staff takes pity on them and allows them both to visit with Felicity three times a day, provided the ICU isn’t needed for other patients.

 

Roy, Laurel, Diggle, and Barry return the next morning, and they bring Caitlyn and Cisco with them. When Caitlyn hugs Oliver close and whispers, “She’s a fighter, Oliver; she’s going to be okay,” he doesn’t bother to fight back his tears.

 

The six of them come in and out over the next few days. They sit with Oliver and Ray, talking quietly or saying nothing at all. Barry brings them coffee from Jitters whenever he comes, and Diggle brings Big Belly Burger.

 

Felicity remains in a coma, but Oliver talks to her whenever he gets the chance to be alone with her. He refuses to stay silent; he’s heard too many stories about patients coming out of comas because they have people to keep them company.

 

He doesn’t know what to talk about at first. He starts to tell her the story of what happened to him on the island, but stops after a few minutes when he realizes the story will be far too depressing. When Donna comes back from the cafeteria, he asks her what Felicity’s favorite book is, ashamed that he doesn’t know the answer.

 

She smiles and pulls a book out of her purse.

 

“The Hobbit,” she answers, holding it out to him. “Do you want to read it to her?”

 

He does.

 

Whenever he gets the chance to spend time with her, he reads to her from “The Hobbit.” He’s never read it before (he can’t remember the last time he finished a book) but reading it out loud to her he finds that he enjoys it. He’s not sure if she can hear him, but it makes him feel better to talk to her anyway. Like he’s doing _something_ , even if it’s small.

 

On the fifth day, Diggle convinces him that he needs to get out of the hospital. Get some fresh air, sleep in a real bed, eat a hot meal, and most importantly-

 

“You need to take a shower, man. I don’t know how much longer I can stand it.”

 

Oliver can’t help but laugh at that, and in the end he agrees.

 

So he, Ray, and the others head to Barry’s place. Oliver gets his shower, and Iris and her father cook everyone a real meal. They sit around the kitchen table and drink to Felicity’s health.

 

That night, Oliver lies in Barry’s bed and stares up at the ceiling. He thinks about the promise he made to Felicity.

 

“I meant it,” he says out loud, even though there’s no one to hear him. “I’ll give it all up if that’s what she wants. I just…she needs to be okay.”

 

He’s not sure who he’s talking to. God? The universe? His guardian angel? Oliver thinks suddenly of his mother, and silent tears stream down his face.

 

“Please,” he begs, his voice coming out in a whimper. “Please.”

 

He turns over, buries his face in a pillow, and cries for the first time in three days.

 

The last thing he remembers saying before he finally falls asleep is her name.

 

“Felicity.”

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Oliver wakes to a knock on the door.

 

“What is it?” he grumbles, blinking his eyes sleepily.

 

Diggle stands in the doorway, and he’s smiling.

 

“She’s awake.”

 

* * *

 

Oliver and the others arrive at the hospital as soon as they can, but the doctor tells them they’ll have to wait awhile to see her. Felicity spends the day sleeping, getting checkups and tests, and generally being fussed over. Finally, they move her out of the ICU into a room of her own, and her doctor arrives in the waiting room to tell them how she’s doing.

 

“To be perfectly honest, I didn’t think she’d come out of her coma this fast. She’s been through an ordeal, but your friend is strong. She’ll need to get plenty of rest, and she’ll be in the hospital for awhile, but the worst is over.”

 

Oliver feels like the world stops spinning beneath him for the first time in five days.

 

* * *

 

Later that night, Donna Smoak comes to visit them.

 

“She’s tired, and a bit loopy from all the medication she’s on, but she’s awake. You can visit her one at a time if you’d like.”

 

Oliver looks at Ray, and for the first time in maybe his whole life Oliver finds that he doesn’t want to argue.

 

“You go first,” he tells Ray.

 

Ray looks at him strangely, but in the end he nods and accepts.

 

Oliver spends the next ten minutes wondering what he’ll actually say to her when he sees her. He still hasn’t come up with anything by the time Ray comes back and tells him that it’s his turn.

 

Oliver pads slowly down the hallway, his heart pounding harder and harder the closer he gets to her.

 

Finally he reaches her room. He knocks gently on the open door and enters.

 

Felicity turns toward him and smiles.

 

“Hey,” she whispers hoarsely.

 

Oliver opens his mouth to say something back, but his voice isn’t cooperating.

 

He walks toward her and drinks in the sight of her. She’s pale, but she’s awake…and she’s _alive._ She’s breathing, her heart is beating, and she’s _alive._ He gets lost in her blue eyes, shining brightly behind her glasses.

 

When he finally reaches the side of her bed, he stops. He stares at her, and he tries to get his voice to work but he can’t.

 

She smirks at him, a familiar look that fills him with so much hope he thinks his heart might burst.

 

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” she asks.

 

Oliver tries, and he tries, but he finds that he’s speechless. There’s so much he could say, so much he wants to say, but none of it seems to matter. Not when he’s faced with _her_ , the woman he loves, amazingly and wonderfully _alive_.

 

In the end, he shakes his head. He reaches out and takes her hand in both of his. He squeezes tight, and she squeezes back, and Oliver swears his heart really _is_ going to burst. He lifts her hand to his lips and kisses it softly, and he only lets go when she takes her hand from his and uses it to brush away the tears he couldn’t hold back.

 

“It’s okay. I’m okay,” she whispers, and finally, _finally_ , Oliver finds the strength to smile back at her.

 

He takes her hand between both of his again and sits down in the chair next to the bed, scooting it as close to her as he can.

 

He wants to tell her everything, but he knows that now isn’t the time. She’s still tired, and everyone else will want to see her, too. Instead he bends over and kisses her forehead gently. She sighs quietly and he loses himself in the feel of her skin, warm beneath his lips, and the guilt and stress and pain of the last few months begins to melt away.

 

When he finally pulls back, he feels himself relax. He leans over the bed and rests his head lightly next to hers, never letting go of her hand.

 

She sighs. “I’m going back to sleep,” she mutters, closing her eyes, and he realizes suddenly that the only reason she’s still awake is that she was waiting for him.

 

“Okay,” he whispers, and he closes his eyes, too, suddenly tired himself.

 

“Promise me you’ll be here when I wake up?” she mumbles.

 

Oliver smiles, and he opens his eyes to find her staring at him imploringly.

 

“I promise,” he answers.

 

She smiles back at him, closes her eyes, and falls asleep.

 

Five minutes later, Oliver does the same.

 

* * *

 

Oliver keeps his promise, and they wake up a few hours later: together.

 

He wants to stay and talk to her, but he knows the others will want to see her, so he heads back to the waiting room.

 

Diggle goes to visit her next.

 

Oliver wonders where Donna went, and Laurel tells him that Barry took her to his place so she could have a proper shower. Apparently she found the two of them asleep and didn’t want to disturb them.

 

Oliver can’t keep his gaze from wandering to Palmer, wondering how the man will react.

 

Ray, it seems, is determined to talk about anything else.

 

“Donna and I agreed that Felicity would be more comfortable in Starling General Hospital. Felicity feels the same. I’m going to pay to have her flown there as soon as the doctor says it’s okay to move her.”

 

Oliver looks at Ray and frowns. He’s confused, not by what Ray has to say, but by the _way_ he says it. Ray sounds almost…defeated. What did he and Felicity talk about?

 

Oliver knows better than to ask.

 

* * *

 

Felicity’s doctor tells them that she’ll be moved to Starling General in five days by helicopter. She needs time to rest, and they’ll need to monitor her for a few more days to be sure she’s up for transfer.

 

Diggle, Roy, and Laurel decide to hop the train back to Starling City. Diggle misses his family, and Roy and Laurel want to check and make sure nothing major has gone down during their absence.

 

Barry offers to let Ray and Oliver stay at his place, but Ray turns him down, insisting on getting a room in a hotel. Oliver accepts Barry’s offer gratefully, having neither the money nor the desire to pay for a hotel room of his own. Donna stays with her daughter for as long as she can, leaving only for meals and the occasional shower in Ray’s hotel room.

 

On the first day, Felicity sleeps. On the second day, the doctors put her under and graft skin over the burns on the left side of her body. Oliver visits her after the procedure and sits with her while she rests. He drinks in the sight of her, sleeping peacefully, body covered in bandages, and to him she’s never looked more beautiful.

 

Felicity sleeps for the better part of the next three days. Oliver visits with her many times, and each time he sits with her quietly and watches her sleep, wondering what he’ll say to her when she finally wakes up.

 

* * *

 

On the fifth day, a few hours before the doctors plan to load her onto the helicopter and move her to Starling City, Oliver comes to visit. For the first time since she came out of her coma, he finds her awake.

 

“Well, look who finally decided to pay me a visit,” Felicity says with a smirk. Oliver smiles back at her, and he knows, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that now is the time to tell her what he promised. He can’t put this off; he doesn’t want to. This is a talk he should have had with her weeks ago. It shouldn’t have taken her almost dying for him to have it, but it did, and he doesn’t want to waste another second of his life without her.

 

“Do you think I could have a moment alone with your daughter, please?” he asks Donna, who’s sitting next to Felicity on the bed.

 

“Ever the gentleman,” Donna responds with a laugh. She stands, and when she gazes at him there’s a hint of mischief in her eyes, and an annoyingly knowing look in the smile she shoots his way. “I’ll go find myself some food. Maybe I’ll find that really cute doctor in the cafeteria again.”

 

“Mom, please,” Felicity begs, looking at her in horror.

 

“What?” Donna asks with a shrug of her shoulders. “I’m a free woman. And so are you, now that you broke things off with Mr. Palmer.”

 

“You did?” Oliver asks, trying his best to hide the joy that’s leaping up inside him at the news.

 

“It’s a long story,” Felicity answers. “One I do _not_ want to get into right now, but yes. I did.”

 

Oliver’s curious, but he doesn’t want to push it. She’ll tell him when she’s ready.

 

Just as an awkward silence starts to fill the room, Donna Smoak breaks it. “You know, I think I _will_ go find that doctor. I’ve heard that hospital sex is some of the best-”

 

“OUT!” Felicity shouts, pointing at the door.

 

Donna laughs. “I’m just kidding, baby. I’ll be back later. You two enjoy yourselves. You know what they say about hospital sex-”

 

“Oh my god, just GO!” Felicity yells, burying her head in her hands.

 

Donna leaves the room, her laughter trailing down the hallway.

 

Oliver looks at Felicity and chuckles, unable to help himself.

 

“I like your mom,” he says with a smirk.

 

“Please, don’t encourage her,” she responds. She pulls her head out of her hands, but Oliver notes how she smiles affectionately at the door her mother just left through.

 

Oliver shakes his head and walks over to her. She’s propped up in bed, more lucid than she’s been in days.

 

“How are you feeling?” he asks, and without thinking he reaches out and takes her right hand in his own.

 

She doesn’t pull away. “Better,” she answers. “Not a hundred percent. More like thirty. Maybe thirty five. Which considering a building fell on me two weeks ago is actually pretty good.”

 

Oliver laughs, and he smiles at her fondly. She smiles back at him, and Oliver feels his heart start pounding nervously.

 

_Now. It has to be now._

“Felicity?” he asks quietly, and he glances down at the floor and steels himself. When he looks back up, she nods at him ever so slightly, urging him to continue. “Do you remember anything that happened while…while you were in the coma?”

 

She frowns suddenly and turns away from him, staring up at the ceiling, and he knows she’s lost deep in thought.

 

“Not really,” she finally answers. “Just…dreams. At least, I think they were dreams. I’m not sure. I do remember something weird involving you dressed like an elf, shooting arrows at a dragon.”

“What?” Oliver asks in confusion.

 

“Yeah,” Felicity responds, and then she giggles. Honest to God _giggles_. It might be the cutest thing Oliver’s ever heard. “I have to say you looked really good with pointy elf ears.”

 

“Anything else?” Oliver asks with a laugh. He’s more than ready to change the topic, but his heart lifts just the slightest. Some part of her must have heard him reading “The Hobbit” to her.

 

“No. Not really. Everything’s a bit…fuzzy. When I think about it, I can’t see whole pictures. It’s more like I can remember…feelings.”

 

“Feelings?” Oliver prompts.

 

“Yeah. Like I remember I felt....” She trails off, lost in her thoughts, and Oliver waits.

 

Finally, she turns to him, and when she smiles her whole face lights up and Oliver’s heart beats faster in his chest. She squeezes his hand, and he squeezes back.

 

“I felt _safe_ ,” she finishes, and Oliver’s heart skips a beat. “I felt….warm. And safe. And… _loved_. I could…I could _sense_ that there were people here. People I knew, people I loved, people I…I wanted to get back to. I opened my mouth, I don’t know how many times, to try and talk, but…nothing ever came out. No matter how hard I tried.”

 

Felicity looks away from him, back toward the ceiling, and Oliver moves in closer, never letting go of her hand.

 

“There were times I couldn’t sense anyone. Times when I…when I got _scared_. Times when I felt lost, and alone, and….” She gasps slightly and turns her head away, tears rising in her eyes.

 

“Hey,” Oliver whispers soothingly. He lets go of her hand. Gently, he presses his palm to her cheek and turns her head back toward him. “It’s okay,” he says. “We were here. All of us. Your Mom, Diggle, Barry, Ray. We were all here.”

 

“ _You_ were here,” Felicity whispers, and when the tears finally fall from her eyes Oliver wipes them away without thinking. She’s shaking now, and Oliver hates himself, because he never meant to upset her like this. “I know you were. I could…I could sense you. I couldn’t hear what you were saying exactly, but I…I knew. I knew because….”

 

She reaches up and takes his hand between both of her own. Slowly she guides their hands to her chest, and she places them gently over her heart. Oliver stares down at their intertwined hands and hopes.

 

“I knew because I felt like I was _home_.”

 

Oliver’s next breath comes out in a gasp, and he shakes his head. When he looks back at her, she’s smiling tenderly at him, and Oliver takes strength from her.

 

When he finally opens his mouth to speak, he gets straight to the point.

 

“I made you a promise, Felicity,” he blurts out. “The first night you were here, when you were in a coma, after you…after we almost lost you. I made you a promise. Actually, I made you _two_ promises.”

 

He stops. She looks at him imploringly.

 

And finally, _finally_ , Oliver Queen takes the plunge.

 

“I promised you that I would stop working with Malcolm. If you would only get better, if you would only…if you would only come back to me…I’d find another way. _We_ would find another way. _Together_.”

 

He pauses, looks down at the floor, and takes a deep breath.

 

“And the second promise?” Felicity gently prompts.

 

Oliver looks back up at her, and he doesn’t regret a single word that leaves his mouth.

 

“I promised I’d give it all up. I promised you, and I promised myself, that if you got better I would stop fighting. I’d hang up the hood, put away my bow, and give up the Arrow. And I meant what I said, Felicity. Every single word. If that’s what you want, I’ll do it. I almost lost you that night…and I can’t do it again.”

 

He gazes back down at their hands and lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. He waits patiently, silently, letting her soak it all in. He doesn’t look up again until she says his name.

 

“Oliver…I don’t want you to give it up.”

 

He frowns. “You don’t?”

 

She shakes her head. “I don’t. I never did. Listening to you risk your life every night is…it’s _hard_. But I can’t ask you to give it up. I won’t. Not for me, and not for…us. I can’t ask you to give up the Arrow, Oliver. It’s part of who you are, and I have to be willing to accept that.”

 

She takes her hands away from his and tries to rearrange the pillows behind her. Oliver helps her resettle, and when she’s comfortable he reaches back and pulls a chair over. He scoots it as close to her as he can and sits down. He reaches out for her hand, but she grabs his first.

 

“Oliver…do you remember that time last year when you said, ‘you’re not my employee; you’re my partner’?”

 

Oliver nods.

 

“For a brief second, I let myself imagine that you didn’t just mean ‘business’ partner. That you meant something…something _more_. Back then I knew it was just wishful thinking, but recently – after you told me you loved me, before you left to fight Ra’s – I let myself hope that ‘partner’ really could mean something more. But then you came back and…well, you know what happened.”

 

“Yeah,” Oliver answers, looking down at the floor. “How could I forget?”

 

“You shut me out, Oliver. Not just as a business partner, but as a friend. As…as something more. And ever since then, all I’ve wanted was for us to be partners again. I wanted you to ask me for help, to ask me what I thought. To let me help you find a way to defeat Ra’s that didn’t involve working with Malcolm Merlyn. I wanted you to let me help you…but I didn’t just want to help the Arrow. I wanted to help _you_ ; to help Oliver Queen. I wanted you to let me in again.”

 

She stops, takes a deep breath, and lets it out slowly. Oliver can picture her counting to three in her head, just like she always does when she’s nervous and says more than she's wanted to.

 

“Did any of that make sense to you?” she asks with a nervous laugh, and Oliver chuckles softly.

 

“It did,” he assures her. “It did.”

 

“Good,” she responds. Then, after a beat, she smiles at him and says, “Thank you.”

 

Oliver frowns and shakes his head. “For what?”

 

“For telling me you’d give up the Arrow. It’s just…in light of everything that’s happened recently….” She trails off, looking down at her lap in discomfort, and Oliver can see that her mind is suddenly elsewhere. Things slowly start to come together in Oliver’s mind: Ray’s hesitance to discuss what happened at S.T.A.R. Labs…the sense that he was lying…Donna’s comment about her and Ray breaking things off.

 

“Felicity…what happened at S.T.A.R. Labs?” Oliver prompts gently. “Ray mentioned an explosion?”

 

Felicity nods. “Barry was fighting a meta-human on the other side of the city. Another one – she must have been his partner – got into the lab. She set a few bugs in the computer system. I knew something was off, but I didn’t catch it until it was too late. I accidentally started a chain reaction that caused half the computers in the building to blow. It happened so quickly, we barely had time to react. Then a gas main blew and…and we ran for it. Ray and I were halfway down the stairs when….”

 

She pauses, stares off into space for a few seconds and takes a deep breath. She focuses her gaze on a frayed spot on her blanket and keeps going.

 

“Ray forgot the quantum processor for his ATOM suit in the lab. I told him to leave it, that there wasn’t time, but…he went back for it. He left me there on that stupid staircase, _alone_ , with the building falling down around me. He never even…he didn’t look back. He barely acknowledged that I was still there. All he could think about was that damn suit.”

 

“Felicity….” Oliver squeezes her hand tightly, and she smiles just the slightest before she continues, still avoiding his gaze.

 

“I went after him. I didn’t really even think about it; I just did it. I caught up with him when he reached the desk where he left the processor. He picked it up and put it in his pocket, and when he turned to me, I…I heard the ceiling crack. He froze, and I just reacted. I pushed him out of the way and that’s…that’s the last thing I remember. Then I woke up here.”

 

Oliver stares at her as silence fills the room, and even though he feels anger rising in him, he fights it back, because it’s the last thing she needs right now.

 

“I don’t blame him for what happened, Oliver. I don’t. It’s just….” She trails off, takes a deep breath. Finally, she looks up at him, tears in her eyes. “He made a decision that day, and he didn’t choose us. He chose the Atom.”

 

Her tears start to fall, silently, and Oliver reaches up with his free hand and brushes them away gently. He doesn’t say a word, just comforts her as best he can. Finally, she smiles through the tears and grabs his hand, pulling it down to her lap and holding it gently.

“Everything’s been so…confusing these past few months. But there is one thing I know for sure. You wouldn’t have left me in that stairwell, Oliver Queen.”

 

Oliver smiles; she knows him so well.

 

“ _Never_ ,” he assures her. “Not in a million years. Not for anything.”

 

He bends over and kisses her tenderly on the forehead. She sighs, relaxing back against her pillows. When he pulls away, her eyes are closed, and she looks content.

 

They sit in silence, both taking in everything that’s been said. Pieces of a puzzle that once seemed dark and complicated fall together neatly in his mind, and the longer Oliver sits, the lighter he feels. This isn’t about him giving up the Arrow. It never was. For Felicity, this has always been about him accepting Oliver Queen. He thinks back to how he felt when he lost her. When, for five seconds, he had to contemplate life without her.

 

“Felicity?” He says her name like it’s a sentence all on its own; as though it encompasses everything he’s ever wanted to say to her. And he finds the idea fitting…because for Oliver Queen, Felicity Smoak is everything he’s ever wanted.

 

“Hmmm?” she asks, opening her eyes to look back at him.

 

He squeezes her hands, and he feels comforted when she squeezes back.

 

“Do you remember what I said last summer? How I…how I didn’t think I could be both Oliver Queen and the Arrow?”

 

“How could I forget?” she asks bitterly, but then she smiles at him, and there’s a hint of hope in her eyes.

 

“Well, I changed my mind. I think I can be. I _want_ to be. But there’s another thing I know.”

 

She looks at him warmly, tears rising in her eyes once more.

 

“Almost losing you, it…it made me realize that I…I can’t be both without _you._ I can’t do _any of this_ without you. Without you…there _is_ no Oliver Queen.”

 

“Then you know what you have to do, Oliver,” Felicity responds firmly. She sits up straighter, wincing slightly when she pulls on the stitches in her stomach. Oliver gets out of his chair quickly and sits on the edge of the bed, keeping a hold on both of her hands. She smiles at him gratefully and holds on to him as tight as she can. “You have to keep your promise. You have to stop working with Merlyn and start working with _me_. You have to let me in, Oliver. You have to…you have to let me love you.”

 

His heart skips a beat. Two beats. Then it starts hammering loudly in his chest. There’s no way he heard her right.

 

“You…you love me?” he asks, almost afraid to hear the answer.

 

But then Felicity rolls her eyes and laughs gently. “God, you can be really dense sometimes. Of course I love you, you big idiot.”

 

Oliver tries to wrap his head around it, but it’s like his brain has short circuited. He feels suddenly stupid, like he can’t remember how to function properly. He stares at her, and he knows he must look exactly like the “big idiot” she just called him.

 

Felicity sighs, and she smiles at him kindly. Finally, she takes pity on him.

 

“I love you, Oliver. I have for a long time. I know I should have told you sooner, but-”

 

He grabs her face in his hands, pulls her close, and shuts her up with a kiss. He doesn’t want to hear what she has to say. He doesn’t _need_ to. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that she kisses him back. All that matters is that she rests her hands on his arms and pulls him closer. Felicity Smoak, the thing he needs more than anything else in the world, is _here_ , and she _loves him,_ and that’s all that matters.

 

When they finally pull away, Oliver rests his forehead against hers, breathing heavily, his hands still cradling her face. When he opens his eyes, he finds that hers are open, too, and he smiles. When she pulls him into a hug and cries quietly against his shoulder, he holds her close, one hand at her neck, the other rubbing her back soothingly.

 

Ra’s Al Ghul may still be alive; there may still be someone out there who can kill him someday. But right now, right here, he’s with the woman that he loves. For the first time in weeks, he focuses not on how there’s someone out there who can kill him, but on how there’s someone out there who _loves him_. He focuses not on how he doesn’t want to die, but on how he wants _to live_.

 

He holds her close, and while they cling to each other, Oliver Queen clings to what really matters.

 

Life. 

 

_…the end…_


End file.
